A Tale of Survival
by GreeneWorld
Summary: Elle Parison and Parker Rollins are District 11's tributes. No one thinks that Elle and Parker will survive, but Elle was born with a special gift no one is expecting . . .


**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games or anything to do with it, except Elle and Parker. First fanfic, reviews and critism welcome.**

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Elle looked at the strawberries she's gathered from the bushes in the orchard. Now, if she could only get behind the grapefruit, then –

"Hey, you there! Put the strawberries in the basket!" an Peacekeeper shouted to her. She sighed and put the fruit back. In District 11, the agricultural district, you weren't allowed to eat _anything_ you grew. It went to the mayor or the Capitol. Elle sighed again as she stared out into space. The grapefruits were being harvested, along with the corn and strawberries this time of year. The Reaping was coming soon, also. Only a couple of weeks away.

She heard a laugh behind her. She spun around to see Parker Rollins chuckling, holding a strawberry, too. He had taken off his shirt, wearing only a vest and leather pants.

_Show-off,_ Elle thought to herself, shucking the corn besides her strawberry basket. Parker was the biggest jerk in Panem, much less this farm. He liked to show off _everything_: his so-called bravery, his muscles, and his 'charm' with the ladies.

Her hands were sore from shucking the corn and to reaching back to the scratchy bush to the last strawberry. Her blonde hair got in her face. She impatiently brushed it back.

"Ready for the Reaping?" Parker asked Elle. She was shortly surprised, but shook it off. If she had a weapon – bows, most likely – then she could teach Parker Rollins exactly how fierce she could be. "I asked you a question."

"I know," Elle sighed, picking off a lichen on a corn husk. "And, yes. We go through that every year, it's always the same. Last year, it was Kellan and Ursula. Two years before that, it was Janis and Leson. Three years before that, it was Rue and Thresh. This year, it might be anyone – from me and you to Hanes and Belle. Each year, two of us go to their deaths."

Parker flinched at her words. "Well, who knows? Maybe Hanes could survive it."

"And maybe you should get to work before the Peacekeeper three feet away comes and whips you," Elle responded, leaning against the brick walls of the orchard that separated the crops. Sure enough, when the Peacekeeper came over and saw Elle working, he grunted with satisfaction. However, he grabbed Parker when he saw that Parker was not doing anything.

"You, sir, are going to report to the mayor for slacking off of your duties!" the overseer shouted, his face turning purple. Parker struggled to keep a straight face. Elle watched quietly as she shucked the corn. Seven down, forty-three to go . . .

"You think that's funny, lad?" the Peacekeeper shouted.

Parker erupted. "Calm down, man. I was only resting for, like, two seconds."

"That's long enough to lose a crop to diseases!" The Peacekeeper shoved Parker down the brick lane. Elle continued shucking the whole time.

* * *

Parker was whipped on cameras, before the Reaping took place. District 11's escort, Martine Glynn, watched sadly and winced. She was one of the rare escorts who loved the district she was assigned to.

Parker cried out, his back muscles tensing, as the mayor whipped him. Elle watched, wincing, as red gashes slowly spread themselves across Parker's back.

"I think that's enough," Martine said softly, lowering Mayor Piton's arm that held the whip. "He's been taught his lesson."

Parker was untied and given his shirt; he yanked it out of the guard's hands and walked down, muttering curses softly directed at the Capitol. Elle stopped him.

"Let me wipe the blood off," she offered. Parker shoved the shirt at her, still muttering, and Elle began to dab at the bloody marks. "You shouldn't curse the Capitol," she warned him afterward, as the mayor gave the traditional speech of how Panem rose out of the ashes of North America, and how the Capitol supplied us all, with thirteen Districts surrounded them.

"Not with all these cameras filming everything we do," she scolded gently. Parker remained silent as the mayor finished his speech.

"And now, let's get on with the show!" Martine said cheerfully – too cheerfully. Elle narrowed her eyes as Parker gasped. She noticed that she had rubbed a gash.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she murmured sincerely. Martine called out, "Ladies first!

She reached into the giant orb that had been split down the middle, so that there were two sides to it. She pulled out the name and unfolded it.

"Elle Parison?" Martine called out. Elle sighed and rolled her eyes, giving Parker's shirt back to him. It was blood-red now, but why did that matter?

"Hello, dear," Martine cooed. "Any volunteers? Anyone?"

Elle shook her head. There were never any volunteers in Districts 5 and higher. Except for that one time – Katniss Evergreen, wasn't it? No, Everdeen – the District 12 girl had volunteered for her sister. Elle and the boy's tribute's mentors were sitting down, staring. Hara Blaise and Sam Poe. They were still alive.

Martine was walking around the orb, her high heels making small clicking noises as the crowd watched silently. She reaches in and pulls out a large piece of paper. "Parker Rollins!" she cries out into the dead quiet. No one moves. No one even seemed to be breathing.

Parker gruffly walks up to the podium and he and Martine shake hands. Then Parker and Elle shook hands themselves. The audience applauds appro-priately, then the Peacekeepers escort them to what Elle called the 'Goodbye building' for anyone who wished to see them say their goodbyes.

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"Elle, I love you," Elle's mother whispered fiercely, giving Elle a hug. Then she removed her necklace. It had the symbol of a gold six-pointed star, embedded in the middle with a black diamond. Elle's mother had found it one day planting some banana seeds. "Take this. For good luck."

Elle's mother, three friends, and Elle's sister had been the only visitors. She clutched the necklace, waiting for this thing to be over. Soon, it was.

They boarded the train that held all the other Tributes. Hara sat next to Sam, discussing things quietly. Parker stood there, arms crossed over his chest. They still hadn't given him his shirt back, or a clean one.

Elle stared out the window for most of the ride. Tributes were joking and chatting already, but Elle didn't care. She stared at the window, fingering her necklace. Then she felt the seat tilt besides her. Someone had sat down next to her.

Elle turned and looked at Hara. "Hello, Elle," Hara murmured. She seemed soft-spoken, but inside Elle could detect the warrior in her. "Sam and I were discussing battle plans for you. Would you like us to teach you separately, or together? That can work, since the two of us survived."

"Um, I don't care. I'd prefer to be taught separately, but together is fine, too." Elle fingered the black diamond, thinking. "What does it feel like?"

"What?"

"To watch two kids that you've trained die, year after year," Elle responded, staring out the window. Hara sighed.

"It hurts. It hurts more than people could imagine."

After that, she left, and Elle fell asleep. She woke to Parker shaking her shoulder.

"Wake up, sleeping ugly. We're here. We're at the Capitol."

Elle looked out the window, toward the magnificent lights that stretched for miles around. The Capitol held an eerie beauty, almost intimidating. It was hard to believe they murdered children for entertainment. Parker leaned over to whisper in her ear.

"Oh, and, a word of advice: fatten yourself up before the Games."

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The end! Hope you liked it, I'll update whenever I can. Next chapter will be in POVs, but it depends on the moment.


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